


Oh Mickey

by ahopper84



Category: Villains (2019)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Threats of Violence, criminal activity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84
Summary: Mickey was a bad boy, but the kind no girl wanted, except for you. Years later, you finally get your chance. (horrible summary sorry)
Relationships: Mickey/Reader





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is CRIMINAL the lack of Mickey fics on here! So I had to do my part, of course. I might write more of this, if there's enough response.

Mickey was a juvenile delinquent. Everyone knew that. Raised (in the loosest form of the word) by a drugged-out mom and a barely-there alcoholic dad, he was on the fast track for trouble practically since the beginning. It started simply enough; trespassing, vandalism, light property damage. But as he hit high school, things got more serious. He had no friends, and kept to himself; or rather, everyone kept away from him. He wasn’t mean, just quiet; but he was just a little too dirty, too greasy. Girls love a bad boy, but nobody wants a scrub. Except, apparently, you.

You’d been fascinated by him the first time you saw him flip off a teacher in sixth grade. You felt bad for him; everyone knew he was white trash, and that it wasn’t *totally* his fault he was the way he was. But there was something exciting, too. The danger, the anarchistic flare. You wished you could be more like him.

Not to mention he was beautiful, with his big blue eyes and full lips. Sometimes you’d find yourself staring at him across the cafeteria. Sometimes you’d think you saw him staring back. 

You never had the guts to go up to him, though, and he never came to you. So when graduation came and he didn’t show, you figured you’d missed your chance. Nobody knew if he had flunked out or just skipped the ceremony, but people had their suspicions. The rumor mill kept grinding after school, when nobody saw him again. Some folks said he’d gone to jail; you hoped that wasn’t true.

You decided to take a gap year, which turned into two, then all the way up to five. But you had a decent life, if a boring one. You had your own shitty apartment, and you’d worked all the way up the corporate ladder, to the coveted position of assistant manager at the Gas N Gulp. Sometimes you thought about Mickey, and wondered where he was. Turns out he was a lot closer than you knew.

It was an average day, like every one before it. The store was empty, and had been for a while. You sat behind the counter, staring off in the distance. A car pulled in and you sat up, smiling at the prospect of something to do. But the guy got out and put on some kind of mask, and your stomach dropped. He moved quick, rushing in and drawing a 45.

“Open the drawer and gimme the cash!” He shouted at you. It was absurd, the threatening tone coming from behind the rubber horse mask. You’d laugh if you weren’t terrified. But that voice… it made you stop in your tracks. You knew that voice.

“C’mon lady, the cash, now!” he shouted, shaking the gun for emphasis, and you were sure of it.

“Mickey?” You breathed, incredulous. “Mickey, is that you?”

You couldn’t see his face, but his body language shifted immediately. He cocked his head to the side, the gun lowering slowly.

“{Y/N}?” He said, and there was a touch of softness to his tone. A moment later he pulled the mask off, and there he was. Older, more care-worn, but just as gorgeous as you remembered.

“You… you know me?” You felt your heartrate spiking, impressive considering how hard it’d already been racing.

“Course I do. You were always staring at me.”

Your eyes went wide for a second and you looked away, flushed with shame. 

“I didn’t mind,” he quickly added, ducking his head a little to get back in your eyeline. “I sorta… stared at you a lot too.”

“Mickey, what the hell are you doing here? Everyone thought you skipped town years ago.”

“Yeah, well… I did.” He looked down at the gun for a second, then sighed and tucked it in the back of his jeans. “Just came back.”

“Hell of a way to return,” you chuckle, and his face lights up with a smile that makes your insides turn to mush. 

“Yeah well, gotta make a name for myself, right?”

“Pretty sure nobody in this town would ever forget your name.” Your reply comes out softer than you meant it, and you feel yourself blush.

“Yeah, I’m actually just passing through. Needed to fuel up, y’know? I’m on my way to Florida.”

“Why Florida?” I scrunch my nose. “Nothing there but old people. Well, and Disney.”

“Well where would you go?” His question startles you, partly because he looks like he’s waiting for a real answer. 

“If I could run away anywhere? I don’t know, maybe California?”

“Overrated. Nothing there but wanna-be hippies. Anyway I’ve got a plan all worked out.” He grins proudly, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “Gonna set me up a little shop on the beach, selling shells and shit. But like, the really pretty ones. I do the work of finding em, and tourists pay 5, 10 bucks each. Maybe even put googley eyes on some of ‘em.”

You smile slowly. It’s perfect, and confirms everything you thought about him. “Sounds fun. Wish I could go too.”

“Well… why can’t you?” He glances to the right and grabs a bag of cheetos off the rack, tearing it open and digging in.

“Mickey… are you saying you’d take me with you?”

He looks up at you, one orange-dusted thumb between his lips. You think you might see him blush, but you can’t be sure.

“Yeah, why not? Can’t exactly leave you as a witness.” He smirks and winks at you, and if you weren’t sitting down your knees might’ve buckled. He glances down, licking his lips. “I mighta… sorta… had a thing for you, back in the day. Just never got the balls to say anything. Plus I figured you’d just tell me to fuck off.”

“I wouldn’t have,” You reply quickly. “I sorta… had a crush on you too. I was gonna tell you, at graduation. But you never showed.”

“Yeah… I’d already skipped out. Had my diploma mailed to me- and yes I did graduate, thank you.”

“I never thought you didn’t,” you nod. “Mickey… ask me?”

He looks you up and down, his lips curling into a smirk. He pulls the gun back out slowly, and you feel a sliver of fear, but a dangerous flicker of excitement. He points it at you, but you notice his finger is nowhere near the trigger.

“Empty the register. And grab some snacks; it’s gonna be a long drive.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’ll be real quick,” you tell Mickey as you unlock the door to your apartment. 

“You got anything worth selling?” he asks, heading for the kitchen and opening the fridge.

“Not really,” you call as you walk quickly to your bedroom. You grab an old duffle bag from your closet and start throwing clothes in. You aren’t too picky - you’ve never cared much about fashion anyway, so one shirt is just as good as any other. 

“Nice room.” His voice coming from your doorway startles you; you look over your shoulder to see him leaning in the frame, eating a haphazardly made sandwich. You watch as his eyes fall to your bed, and particularly the stuffed rabbit tucked under the blankets by your pillow. “Cute,” he says with a smirk.

“That’s, uh, Mr Floppy,” you mumble as you move on to your sock drawer. You watch from your peripheral as he crosses the room and picks up the plush.

“You’re not leaving me behind, are you?” he says in a high-pitched voice, and you giggle. “Got any jewelry?” he asks, back in his normal register.

“Nothing expensive, but it’s all there,” you say, pointing to the jewelry box on your dresser as you move back to the closet. You hear him rifling through it as you look through your few dresses, picking out a couple of the more comfortable ones. As you continue packing he looks around your room, asking questions about this or that.

“These your folks?”

You turn around and see him holding up the frame that was on your nightstand. It’s a photo of you and your parents. There’s something in his expression, something more than just curiosity. It reminds you of what everyone said about his own family life.

“Yeah… That was taken a couple summers ago. We rented a cabin upstate for a couple weeks.”

He doesn’t answer, just sets the photo down gently. 

“Mickey… can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He turns to you, giving you his full attention, and for some reason that feels you feel special. 

“If I had said something… back in school… what would you have done?”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you hold your breath. Slowly, his lips curl into a smile; it’s soft and warm, but there’s a hint of mischief too.

“Probably would’ve taken you with me the first time.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You lick your lips and tilt your head back slightly; he gets the hint and cups your cheek. His hands are big and rough and warm, and you want to feel them everywhere.

“You sure about this?” he asks softly. “This ain’t no vacation; there’s no coming back from this.”

“I’m sure,” you reply. You place your hand on his chest, and you swear you can feel his heart beating just as fast. He licks his lips and nods. You close your eyes, sighing his name, but it’s cut off by his mouth on yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, surprisingly gentle, like he’s still asking permission. You slip your arms around his neck and feel his go around your waist, and then he kisses you for real. It doesn’t take long to escalate to hungry, open-mouthed kisses, breathy moans coming from both of you. You’ve wanted this for so long, imagined it so many times, but the real thing is so much better.

He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you gasp at his strength. The gasp turns into a deep moan as you feel his hardness pressed against you. You rock your hips, drawing a groan from him as he bites your lower lip. 

“{Y/N}, he breathes, pulling back just far enough to look you in the eyes. His pupils are full-blown, his lips kiss-swollen and looking even fuller than normal. It drives you wild seeing just how badly he wants you, knowing you caused this reaction.

He turns and drops you on the bed, laying over you and rolling his hips. Your back arches as he kisses and nibbles your neck, his huge palms massaging your chest through your thin t-shirt.

“Mickey,” you gasp, your body shaking. “Please…”

Your cell-phone rings, and both of you freeze. You scramble to pull it from your back pocket, and your face pales.

“It’s my boss. He must’ve seen the cameras by now. Mickey…” You look at him, fear washing over you. 

“It’s okay,” he tells you, sitting up and dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. But we gotta move.”

You get up and run to the bathroom to grab a couple things from there; when you come back, you catch him slipping your family photo into your bag, and your heart melts a little more. You throw in your toothbrush and toothpaste and deodorant, and zip up the bag.

“Don’t forget Mr Floppy,” he tells you, tossing you the stuffed rabbit; you smile and hug him to your chest for a moment. He grabs your duffel bag as the two of you head for the door. 

“Last chance,” he tells you. You look around your apartment, saying a silent goodbye, then turn back to him. You take his outstretched hand and smile, and the two of you run for the car. 

It’s absolutely insane, what you’re doing. You know that. But as you look at the man beside you as he hops into the driver seat, you know you wouldn’t do it any different. He turns to you and smiles, and your heart leaps. This is exactly where you want to be.


End file.
